


i could lie, say i like it like that

by RenChan_x



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 02:36:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19454563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RenChan_x/pseuds/RenChan_x
Summary: Remember Trina, that random Neolution girl who was around for like 5 minutes? I wonder what she’s up to these days!





	i could lie, say i like it like that

**Author's Note:**

> Me, browsing the character tags: seriously is no one writing about that one minor character that showed up like twice ??  
> Literally no one:  
> Me: okay ... fine .... I guess I have to do EVERYTHING around here MYSELF

Club Neolution is in full thrall tonight. Cyber goths and neon ravers grind and thrash around to the music, others sit around shisha pipes, and a man with horns and a split tongue offers ice branding to an enthusiastic crowd. A PVC clad Dominatrix flogs a latex hooded individual, restrained on a St Andrew's Cross. No one bats a single eyelid at any of this.

Trina stands outside. The bass is still audible, though quieter, muffled, out here. She declines a cigarette, and glances around, rolls a loose hair pin back and forth between her magnetic fingertips nervously. It's the first time she's been back here since - well, since everything. A lifetime ago. She weighs up her options. Option 1, leave. Go home to an understocked refrigerator, an overactive imagination and a sleepless night. Option 2, stand here forever. Freeze to death, or die of lung cancer from secondhand smoke. Option 3. Face your fears head on. Go back into the club and confront it.

Gathering her courage, she bites the bullet and heads back inside. The club only recently reopened following a series of unfortunate events.  
At first there were the disappearances.  
Then DuVall died. One of the many rumours Trina heard was his grafted tail had started to rot. Necrosis set in to the tissue and then he'd died of septicemia. Trina had met him only a handful of times. She got the impression didn't lower himself to mingle with the "riff-raff", the Freaky Leekies, the tadpoles in the pond. He was the big fish. He was above all that, a “serious” Neolutionist - but he’d take their money, and let them run his club for him. He was a creep and a perv with a high opinion of himself. Trina had heard too many tales about his wandering eyes and hands to feel particularly sorry if his ass had fallen off.

But then, Leekie himself died. That was a hard blow. He’d always seen like a nice man, if a little eccentric. It was around then that the new owner, Astrid, made the decision to take the nightclub on hiatus. But tonight, Neolution is alive once more. 

Trina herself has long become disillusioned with Neolution the concept. Finding your boyfriend with half his face cut off and giving birth to a baby with no eyes can do that. Though Neolution the club - familiar faces, memories of happier times - might bring some form of comfort.

The atmosphere is different than she remembers. Astrid is here, hostile and aloof as ever, but there are many more unfamiliar faces in the crowd tonight. More security than usual, too.  
The word “Neolution” was once reserved for niche biochem publications and fringe podcasts, but since Evie Cho and the Brightborn scandal broke, the name keeps gaining attention in wider media.

Neolution is a concept, that was the mantra. No one person can own a concept, an ideology. But a concept can have many applications.  
Self-directed “evolution”, taking control, taking ownership of your own body - that was a noble cause, surely.  
And yet. That’s not the picture headlining the news. The concept corrupted by those who claim a genetically improved human species means a whiter one, appropriated to suit their own racism and ableism. 

She shakes her head, brushes these thoughts aside. This is too heavy for tonight. She files away the line of thought, though she knows she'll be turning the same questions over and over in her mind all night.

“Trina?” She spins around. A cloud of silvery hair. One white contact lens. Dressed head to foot in grey. Elytra. “Oh my god, it is you! I almost didn't recognise you. I haven't seen you around since… well. How are you doing?”

“Oh! Hey! I'm.. I'm managing, yeah. Just moved into my own place actually, downtown.”

“Oh, nice!”

She laughs. “It's really not, it's kind of a dump. Still. If you wanted, you could come over some time. Like old days.”

“Yeah! Yeah, I will. Oh, hey Jin!” they say, catching the shoulder of a similarly pale haired man, ears adorned with many silver rings, passing with armfuls of drinks. “Look who it is.” The man turns around.

“Trina! Good to see you again.” He hugs her, though he holds his hands up, a beer bottle in both.

“Yeah, you too! How've you been, Jin?”

“Yeah, I'm cool, I'm cool. You?”

“Yeah,” she says without enthusiasm.

“Well,” he senses the awkwardness and changes the subject. “We're going to a symposium at Spadina next weekend, you should totally come!”

“Oh yeah, definitely,” says Elytra, “It's going to be a blast.”

“Who's speaking?”

“Oh, um, someone from Trimorez Pharmaceuticals. Kohei Kanako? Something about nootropic drugs and transhumanism.” says Elytra.

A large group push past, jostling Jin. “Dude, tonight is so crazy, like, everyone is here. I've never seen it so busy here!”

“Not everyone.” Trina says quietly.

There's an uncomfortable silence.

“Yeah dude. There's too many of us missing. Really sucks.” Elytra says, looking at Trina with sympathy.

“Anyway. I better be getting back with the drinks. Wanna join us? We're gonna go do some nitrous.”

“No, thanks. I think I'm just gonna go after this set.” she nods her head towards the DJ booth.

“Alright. Elytra?”

“Yeah, I'll be right over.” They hug. “It's been really great seeing you again. We're all here for you. Call me if ever you need me, right?”

“Thanks. I will.”

“See you at the symposium maybe?”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Alone again, she sets her empty bottle down on the bar and turns to leave. 

Up at the DJ booth, the next DJ dons a giant pair of headphones. It's a familiar face, but near unrecognisable. Underneath silver synthetic dreads, piercings and one blanked-out iris, the resemblance is uncanny.

Freaky Leekie they may be, but this is undoubtedly a Leda clone. Trina walks straight past, without even a flicker of recognition.

**Author's Note:**

> Quiet when I’m coming home, and I’m on my own  
> And I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that  
> Yeah I could lie, say I like it like that, like it like that  
> But nothing is better sometimes.
> 
> [I don’t know how to title and this song was in my head]
> 
> Oooh sequel hook?? Yes bc I am trash  
> Idk man I just really like Trina and Club Neolution and freaky leekies okay??


End file.
